A poem, five years old, but it still resonates with me. A blessed Sunday to you all.

Winnowing...sorting the wheat and chaff of my thoughts

Psalm 77: Suspending My Disbelief, Sustaining My Hope

When all that was vibrant and teaming with life

feels like pewter plate–heavy and dull;

When the duties of worker and mother and wife

leave me hollowed, a beaten-down hull;

Your Word is a light flick’ring fast in the gloom,

and Your Wind blows a life-giving breeze through my desolate room.

– – – – – –

The bow which caresses the string strokes a lingering tone,

and it trembles, sustained on the air, an invisible wave.

The Word suspends each spinning sphere on a track of its own,

and their circular dance shapes our seasons from birth to the grave.

– – – – – –

When I can’t feel my pulse for the numbness inside,

and my heart is a stone in my chest;

When I’ve run out of salt for the tears that I’ve cried,

and my sleep is…

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